


Ace of Hearts

by Zykaben



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Aromantic Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Aspec Archives Week (The Magnus Archives), Canon Asexual Character, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Getting Together, It's just soft and cute all the way through, M/M, No Fear Entities (The Magnus Archives)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:14:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28813998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zykaben/pseuds/Zykaben
Summary: Tim was out of his depth, but Jon was too. That was why he’d come for help in the first place. “Wait, hold on. I may not be an expert with crushes but that doesn’t mean I can’t help with it. We just need to do some research.”(Or: Ace Jon and aro Tim solidarity as they try to find the best way for Jon to woo Martin.)
Relationships: Jonathan Sims & Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 90
Kudos: 356
Collections: Aspec Archives Week, Repulsed/Averse Ace Jon Archivist, tma is an office comedy - tma fics (read)





	Ace of Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Aspec Archives Week for the Day 7 prompt "Solidarity" based off of a plot bunny I brainstormed with others from the writer's server. This was a lot of fun to write and the fic got away from me a bit in the best way possible.
> 
> Huge thanks to [Kiore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Champagne/) for beta reading and [Geo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/god_commissioned_me/) for beta reading and helping me pin down scenes, as well as all the folks who helped cheerlead me while I was writing! This fic wouldn't be what it is without any of you.

Jon had been on-edge all day. Well, maybe on-edge was the wrong word. Nervous? Yeah, he’d been _nervous,_ fidgeting even more than usual and muttering to himself with his head bent down. Tim was a bit worried, but when he’d asked if Jon was alright, he’d been waved off. Jon had lied through his teeth, assuring Tim that everything was completely fine. Tim had decided not to press the issue, but that didn’t stop him asking Martin and Sasha if they’d noticed Jon acting off. They both had. Martin admitted he’d tried to check on Jon, but Jon had dismissed him, same as Tim.

Given the way he was acting, it wasn’t too much of a surprise that Jon had kept to his office for most of the day, only coming out when Martin practically dragged him to the canteen to get some lunch.

By around six in the evening, Tim was still at his desk and, as far as he could tell, he and Jon were the only two people still in the archives. Martin and Sasha had actually gotten in on time, the lucky bastards. Still, Martin had made him a cuppa before leaving. Tim would have to repay him somehow. Maybe he could restock those biscuits in the break room that Martin liked so much? Yeah, that sounded good.

The sound of a door opening caught Tim’s attention, his gaze dragged away from his desktop to see Jon stepping out of his office. He looked tired and no less nervous.

“Hey boss,” Tim greeted. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m fine. Yourself?”

Tim shrugged. “Could be worse. Bit of a long day, but nothing too awful so far.” After another second, he continued. “Not to be pushy or anything but… are you _sure_ you’re alright?”

Jon looked away. “I’m… I _am_ fine. There’s just been something that I’ve been meaning to do and I keep putting it off.”

“Anxious about it?”

“Extremely.”

Tim huffed a chuckle. “Sorry to hear that. Do you want to talk about it?”

Jon hesitated for a moment. “Yes, actually. I just…” He bit his lip. “I’d like some advice regarding a… personal matter. If, if that’s alright.”

Huh. Not quite what Tim had been expecting, mostly because Jon didn’t usually _ask_ for advice in general, let alone for stuff that didn’t involve work. “Sure. What is it?”

“I… I need to know how to go about romancing someone,” Jon said, all in a rush. “Not, not just for a date—though certainly I’d like there to be a date—but so that they know I’m interested in a long-term romantic relationship with them. And you’re assuredly more proficient in that area than I am so…” Jon trailed off for a moment. “I’d like a bit of help.”

“Oh. Huh. Yeah, I don’t know about ‘assuredly more proficient’ in that field, boss. Flirting is fun and all, but romance isn’t… really my thing?” Tim thought for a moment, debating his next words, before deciding he trusted Jon. “I’m aro. As in aromantic. As in I just don’t do romantic feelings.”

Jon blinked owlishly at Tim, a small, disbelieving smile forming on his face. “Oh, I didn’t—” Jon stopped. The smile on his face fell slowly until his expression was crestfallen. “Ah. Right. I’m… I’m sorry to bother you then. I’ll just—”

And god, but Tim couldn’t have that! Tim was out of his depth, but Jon was too. That was why he’d come for help in the first place. “Wait, hold on. I may not be an expert with crushes but that doesn’t mean I can’t help with it. We just need to do some research.”

“Oh, you don’t have to, I didn’t want to drag you into—”

“Nope, you can’t stop me now,” Tim declared. He opened his browser and started typing. “I’m pulling up magazine articles as we speak, we’re gonna figure this shit out together. C’mon, pull a chair up, you have to help me figure out which of these are the most credible sources.”

Tim continued to open and scan through all the tabs he’d opened. Lot of clickbait and top 10 lists and quizzes, but some of them looked like they could be promising. He heard Jon shuffle away, then the gentle rolling of the wheels of one of the office chairs from across the floor. Tim glanced over just as Jon plopped down next to him.

“Thank you,” he said to the floor. “It… means a lot to me that you’re willing to help.” He paused, looked up at Tim until their eyes met. “And, um. Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me that about yourself. I know how hard it can be.”

Tim flashed a smile at him. “Of course. Coming out to people is always a bit scary, you know?”

Jon nodded. “Yes. Especially when you’re, ah, asexual.”

Tim opened his mouth to say that he wasn’t ace, actually, but then he saw how Jon’s fidgeting had started back up again and he’d dropped eye contact and _oh._

Tim couldn’t properly bump his shoulder against Jon’s like this, but he made do. “Of course. Us aspec folks have to stick together, yeah?”

Jon ducked his head down, but even that didn’t hide his grin. “Yes. Yes we do.”

* * *

They had stayed there in the archives for a bit over an hour, riffling and clicking through any article or link they could find. Sadly, most of it had been pretty useless. A lot of tips were bog-standard drivel, stuff about giving people flowers, or touching them more often, or saying nice things to them. Not exactly bad things to do, just… vague and unsurprising. Anything sexual was also right out; anytime something like that popped up on the screen, Jon would become visibly uncomfortable and Tim would scroll past it without saying anything. And then there were some tips that were just bad downright awful in Tim’s opinion. Don’t overshare? Go skydiving? Who the hell was the target audience for that shit?

Jon had been disappointed by the lack of useful information, but he’d still thanked Tim several times over for his help, saying that he really shouldn’t keep Tim any later than it already was.

Tim had continued to read articles and advice columns on the tube home and after he’d gotten back to his flat.

He came into work early the next morning and marched right up to Jon’s office. He knocked on the door. “Hey boss, you in there?”

A muffled, “Yes, come in,” came from the other side of the door. Tim happily did so.

Jon was bent over his desk, nose in some document or other. He took a moment to look up. “You’re in early.”

“Hello to you, too,” Tim teased. “I have some important research that I need you to review as quickly as possible.”

“Research? Did you find something for the Swain case?”

“Nope,” Tim chirped. He pulled out the stack of papers from his bag and placed it on Jon’s desk with a flourish. “I bring you the best advice on romancing someone I could find. None of them are going to be winning any prizes anytime soon, but they have parts that actually seem, you know, helpful. I printed them this morning so I didn’t have a lot of time to cross-reference, but you’ve always been better at that than me, so here you go.” Tim finished with a winning grin that quickly slipped from his face. “Boss?”

Jon was staring at the papers with wide eyes and his lips parted. He seemed utterly frozen.

“Boss? Jon, you alright?”

Jon jumped in place. He blinked rapidly, bringing up a quick hand to rub at his eyes. “Thank you.” His voice was watery and unsteady.

“Yeah, of course,” Tim said softly. “Happy to help. If you’re up for it, we could review them again together once you’re through with them. Or not, whatever works best for you.”

“I-I would like to review them with you,” Jon hurried to say. “If you’re amenable.”

“Hell yeah, sounds great. Maybe this time we can actually make some headway.”

Jon just nodded, more to himself than Tim. “Where should we meet? The archives work well enough but it feels… strange, doing something so personal at work.”

“Fair enough. We could always hang out at my place. I’ve got a bunch of snacks stockpiled and a pretty comfortable couch, if I do say so myself.”

“That sounds like it will work,” Jon said after a moment of consideration. “After work?”

“It’s a date,” Tim grinned. Jon snorted at the joke and then immediately covered his face with his hand. Tim kindly did not mention it. “Have fun with work, boss.”

“I make no promises,” Jon drawled out. “Good luck on the Swain case.”

Tim gave a cheery salute. “You can count on me.”

Jon smiled. “I know.”

* * *

Tim and Jon were settled on opposite ends of Tim’s couch, snacking on crisps and pretzels and hummus. They each had a red pen and half of the pages Tim had printed out, striking out things that were off the table and making notes of tips that sounded decent, keeping a tally of how many times that tip was mentioned.

By the end of it, they’d managed to compile a respectable list of advice and Tim had added more hummus to his mental shopping list.

Tim clapped his hands together. “Alright, now we have some information that’s _actually_ useful. Now all we have to do is figure out the rest of the game plan.”

Jon looked askance at him. “… What do you mean by that?”

“Well, a lot of these tips are good but you can’t just whip some of them out without planning.” Tim used the back of his pen to tap a line on the paper. “Making them tea is good if you can get them back to your flat, but it’s kind of hard to do otherwise, yeah? And the whole ‘dress to impress them’ thing, I can definitely help you with that. Bringing them gifts is a good idea, too, but you’ve gotta figure out what those will be. And then actually asking them out is a whole other ballgame.”

“It… sounds like quite a lot when you put it like that.”

“I mean, isn’t it? It’s not bad or anything, just extra effort towards something that will make you happy.”

Jon hummed. “You’re not wrong. And… um. I realize now I haven’t exactly… told you who this is all for.”

“Yeah, I noticed. Don’t worry though. I’ll help you even if you don’t—”

“It’s Martin.”

Tim stopped. Stared on Jon. A huge grin split across his face. “Fucking _brilliant,_ that. Great choice, boss.”

“It’s not exactly a _choice.”_

“Still a great one. God, Martin really is a catch, isn’t he? Handsome bloke and oh so very kind.”

“Yes. He… he cares a lot.” Jon turned his face away and, like he was confessing to a crime, said, “I like his freckles.”

“Very cute, those,” Tim agreed. “Well, now that I know it’s him, making him tea is going to the absolute top of the list.”

It took some time, but the two of them managed to sort through the advice they’d accumulated. They decided that, for now, Jon could start wooing Martin with smaller things: tea, talking more, occasional compliments. Then, later, once they’d gotten closer, he could step it up a bit.

For now, though, they had a winning strategy, Tim was sure of it.

“I’m going to go and get more water. You want some?”

“Yes, please,” Jon said. He glanced at his watch. “Oh. It’s getting late, isn’t it. Maybe I should head out.”

“You could,” Tim agreed as he walked to the kitchen. _“Or_ you could stay for dinner and we can get some extra studying in by watching a romcom. Maybe rewatch a classic. You’ve seen The Princess Bride, haven’t you?”

Jon was silent. Tim’s head whipped around.

“You’ve seen The Princess Bride,” Tim repeated. “Haven’t you?”

“Not as far as I’m aware.”

“Holy shit, we have to fix that _now._ I’m making us some pasta—you don’t have any allergies or restrictions, do you? No? Good—and then we’re watching it. I expect a full report by the time we’re done.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “I’ll be sure to take notes.”

“See to it that you do.”

The pasta didn’t taste great with how hastily Tim made it, but Jon had been so mesmerized by the movie that he’d forgotten to take notes. Tim counted the night as a win.

* * *

Over the next few weeks, Tim kept an eye on Jon and Martin every time they interacted. Jon had started off almost painfully awkward, stumbling over his own words whenever he actively tried to be romantic. Martin was very patient, though, and always waited for Jon to get his thoughts out before responding. If Jon was ever extremely distressed, he’d glance at Tim. Tim would always shoot him a grin and a thumbs up and Jon would turn back to Martin with renewed resolve.

It was pretty cute, actually. Like watching kittens or ducklings fumble around towards god knows what.

And it seemed to be working, too. The first time Jon had made tea and brought it to Martin’s desk, Martin had been absolutely speechless, face bright crimson. He’d managed to stutter his thanks out and had smiled at Jon, awestruck. Jon had excitedly told Tim about it later, hands moving wildly as he gave a play-by-play of what Tim had seen earlier in the day. Tim had listened gladly.

Sasha had definitely picked up on how Jon and Martin were acting with each other, too. She kept shooting Tim glances with one eyebrow raised whenever Jon and Martin talked. She’d made a cryptic comment the other day, something about how they seemed to be getting along _much_ better now. Tim had agreed just as cryptically.

All things considered, it was hardly a surprise when Jon approached Tim and told him, “I think I’m ready to start working on the next phase of our plan.”

“Hell yeah, boss!” Tim gave him a light punch to the shoulder. “You’ve been crushing it, phase two is going to go off without a hitch. What are you thinking of doing next? I think we have gift giving on there, and asking him to grab lunch with you without him having to drag you out of your office—oh, don’t give me that look—or maybe—”

“I was thinking about getting him a gift,” Jon informed him. “And… maybe figuring out something to wear if I ever get around to asking him on a d-date.”

 _“When_ you ask him out,” Tim corrected.

“Yes, when,” Jon conceded. “I just… I don’t know how firm a grasp I have on fashion and what makes me… look good. I like my clothing enough aesthetically, but I don’t know if that’s just _me_ or…”

“Well, you definitely don’t look bad. You just dress very professionally. Nothing wrong with that, of course. But maybe I can help you find something that’s a bit more… homey? Open? Less business-y.”

Jon’s nose scrunched. “I’m not wearing any hoodies when I ask him out. I want to look like _me.”_

“Yeah, of course. I’m not about to force you to wear anything you don’t like. That’s just a dick move. Here, are you free this weekend? And _don’t_ say no if you’re just planning on doing more work.”

Jon scoffed. “Yes, I’m free. Why?”

“You and me, boss-man, are going shopping.”

* * *

Tim had managed to bribe Jon into going shopping for an outfit with the promise of treating him to lunch at a hole-in-the-wall Greek place that had gyros to kill over, as well helping him pick out the perfect gift for Martin.

“How do you even know what looks good?” Jon asked as he shambled into the store, casting wary glances at the clothes on display.

Tim knocked their shoulders together. “I can just tell, trust me on this one. Have I ever steered you wrong?”

“Well…”

Tim clutched at his nonexistent pearls with a dramatic gasp. “Mr. Sims! I am _hurt!”_

That set Jon snickering. 

“Really though, I do have an eye for this kind of stuff,” Tim said, serious but still lighthearted. “And if you genuinely hate everything I suggest or just really don’t want to be here, we can head out and I’ll still pay for lunch.”

“No, I… I do want to try this. I want to look good. Or at least better than I usually do.”

Tim paused. “You don’t look bad, mate. You’re a knockout.”

Jon just snorted.

“Really! Jon, you’re a catch, even without factoring in your personality.”

“I’d think that would be a detriment more than anything else.”

“Oh my god. Jon. Yes, you’re a bit prickly at first and can be a bit of a bastard, but I wouldn’t be your friend or helping you woo Martin if I _didn’t_ care about you. And look, as the resident allosexual of this mission, I can promise you that you look good, regardless. You’ve got a lot going for you, really.”

Jon’s shoulders were up to his ears and his face had grown noticeably darker. “Y-you have a lot going for you, too.”

Tim grinned at him. “Thanks, Jon. Now come on, I think I saw a jacket that would be _perfect_ for you.”

With that, Tim grabbed onto Jon’s wrist and dragged him along.

The shop they were in wasn’t overly busy, though there were still a few customers milling about. Tim didn’t pay them any mind, though he saw Jon glance anxiously at them every once in a while.

Tim pulled a light blue cardigan sweater off of one of the clothing racks. He held it up in front of Jon, lining it up with his torso. “What do you think of this?”

“Oh.” Jon reached out to touch it. “It’s soft. Would… would another color work?”

“Hmm…” Tim put it back on the rack and picked through the others. “Let’s see… Red might be a bit bold for you. The pink one has some nice pop, but I don’t know if it’s what you want to go for…”

Jon tentatively reached out. “This one?”

Tim looked over. The cardigan sweater Jon had rested his finger on was a deep, rich purple. “Yeah, actually. I think that’d work great! Makes it easier to pick out the rest of the outfit if we’re building it around something. How do you feel about skinny jeans?”

“Not great.”

“Slacks it is! Where are—there! Onward!”

* * *

They walked out of the shop with a brand new outfit for Jon: the purple cardigan sweater, a nice pair of fitted grey slacks, and a black, button-down collared shirt. The two of them spent a few minutes debating who should pay for it, Jon insisting they were _his_ clothes, he should be the one to pay for them, and Tim saying that since it was _his_ idea so he should put the money up.

Jon had won in the end. Tim made sure to order an extra appetizer for Jon when they went out to eat in revenge.

From there, they went browsing through shops, trying to find something that would make a good gift for Martin. Jon found it especially nerve-wracking, explaining that it was the _first_ gift, so it couldn’t be _too_ personal but it still had to be meaningful. The exact intricacies were a bit lost on Tim, but he understood the intent.

They were in the third shop, a small cozy place full of knick knacks and trinkets, when he heard an excited exclamation from somewhere else in the store. Tim looked up from the wood-carved figurines he’d been staring at just in time to see Jon excitedly making his way over.

“Tim, _look.”_

In Jon’s hands was a mug. It was glossy and white with splotches of black all over it, four nubs coming out of the bottom to form legs, and a sculpted head with a wide nose and ovular ears.

“Oh my god,” Tim breathed out through his chuckles. “Is that a cow mug?”

“It’s _perfect.”_ Jon declared. “I was talking with Martin the other day about cows—did you know he saves cute photographs or cows to his phone? His favorite are highland cows, but he says any cow is a good cow.”

Jon’s joy was infectious. “Looks like we have a winner then! Come on, I’ll pay.”

“You most certainly will _not.”_

Tim ended up winning.

* * *

Phase two, as Tim had dubbed it, was coming along nicely. Martin and Jon had been getting closer and closer, Jon happily informing Tim that he and Martin had met up outside of work not just once, but _twice._ Once had been when they ran into each other at a coffee shop not too far from the Institute before coming into work, and the other had been when Jon invited Martin back to his flat to watch a documentary together.

Jon had also given Martin the mug. Martin never drank out of anything else nowadays. Tim might not have been an expert with romance, but all signs pointed to this meaning things were going well.

There was only one problem. Jon didn’t know how he wanted to ask Martin out.

He wanted to do it in person, so a written note or phone call or text were all right out. But Jon was so nervous about actually _doing_ it in person, wasn’t sure if he’d be able to get all of the words he wanted to say out while staring at Martin’s face, didn’t know if he’d be able to remember a script even if he rehearsed it over and over again.

The thing was, Jon was a _romantic._ He wanted to list out all of the reasons he loved Martin and _then_ ask him out. Tim could understand it, really, it just… wouldn’t it be easier to just flat-out ask and then explain his reasoning? But Jon seemed dead set on a big, grand confession and Tim didn’t begrudge him that. 

They just had to find a way that would work.

“A powerpoint!”

Tim blinked and looked away from the television. “What?”

They were over at Tim’s flat again, watching a documentary that Jon had recommended. It had become a regular thing, Jon coming over on Fridays after work and the two of them watching a movie or talking about a book they read, all the while eating takeout or whatever Tim made for them.

“I can make a powerpoint,” Jon explained, eyes alight. “I can make a slideshow about all the things I love and admire about Martin and I can present it to him! That way if I get lost I can check my slides and I can still do it directly to him.”

Silence.

“Holy _shit,_ Jon. That’s _perfect.”_

“Isn’t it!”

Tim laughed at Jon’s blatant and obvious excitement. “It’s also very _you._ God, a powerpoint. Why the hell didn’t I think of that?”

“I _am_ the romantic one, between the two of us.”

“Cheeky bastard. Alright, pause the documentary, I’m getting my laptop. I am an absolute genius when it comes to fancy formatting with this shit.”

Jon grinned, unrestrained and exuberant.

* * *

Jon’s presentation, at long last, was complete.

They’d worked on the slides together over the weekend, then had gone about hammering out the script. Tim had put his experience in the publishing industry to work, helping to write and revise the drafts Jon had sent him. It had taken about a week to produce the final draft, another week for Jon to feel confident enough in knowing it well enough to deliver it even if he got a bit nervous.

Jon had decided that it was best to give Martin his presentation on Friday, since if Martin said no he’d then have the weekend to recover and could hang out with Tim directly afterwards. But, if things went well, then Jon and Martin would head off to a nice sit-down restaurant that Jon had booked a reservation for two at. It was, according to Jon, a restaurant Martin had been wanting to try out for quite some time.

It had taken a while for them to figure out _where_ Jon giving the presentation would be best before settling on the Institute, even if it _was_ their place of work. Doing it at either Jon’s or Martin’s flat would be incredibly awkward if Martin ended up saying no, doing it in front of other people was a no-go, and doing it while trying to walk around anywhere would be cumbersome at best.

Come Friday, everything was set up perfectly. Jon’s laptop was hooked up to an old projector Tim had managed to scrounge up, Sasha had left for the weekend but Martin was still here, Jon was in the outfit Tim had helped him with, and work had _just_ officially ended.

It was go time.

Jon’s head poked out of his office door. “Martin? May I speak with you in my office for a moment?”

It was a testament to Jon’s romantic skills that Martin didn’t seem nervous at all, just said, “Yeah, sure. Is this about one of the statements?”

“N-no, it’s not. It’s um—it’s nothing bad, I promise. Here, come in and take a seat at one of the chairs—”

Martin stepped in and the door to Jon’s office closed. If Tim strained his hearing, he could _just_ make out their muffled voices, though not any of the actual words they were saying.

Now all that was left to do was cross his fingers and wait.

Jon’s presentation averaged at just a bit over six minutes when they’d timed it during the last few rehearsals. By now, two whole minutes had passed and Martin hadn't come running out Jon’s office and out of the archives, so Tim was pretty sure it was going well.

Three minutes passed, then four. Tim scrolled through some nonsense apps on his phone to pass another two minutes and then looked up. Martin still hadn’t left.

Then seven minutes passed. Then eight. That probably meant success, yeah? Martin probably wouldn’t have stayed for the whole presentation and then afterwards for so long if wasn’t planning on accepting, would he? All he had to do was say yes and then he and Jon would be off and on a date. Oh god, had he even listened to the whole presentation? Tim hoped Jon had at least gotten through the “Things You Do That Always Make Me Smile” slide, that part had taken the most time and was sappy as hell.

Just over the ten minute mark, Jon’s office door swung open. Jon and Martin both walked out. Martin looked like he’d been crying but he had the sunniest smile Tim had ever seen on his face and Jon looked over the fucking moon. They were holding hands.

Tim resisted the urge to stand up and clap for them. He settled for aggressively shaking his leg to relieve all the excess giddy energy. Jon had _done_ it.

Jon leaned over to quickly murmur something to Martin. Martin nodded easily and let go of Jon’s hand. Jon practically bounced over to Tim’s desk.

“Tim, he said yes!”

Tim laughed, too happy to keep it in. “Hell yeah, boss! Don’t keep him out too late, you hear?”

Jon just nodded, seemingly oblivious, while Martin’s cheeks took on a bit of pink.

“I’ll make sure I don’t keep him up past when he wants to be awake,” Jon assured him. “And… Tim?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. Thank you _so much._ I don’t… I don’t think that I’d even have been able to do this without you helping and it means the world to me.”

Tim laughed again, though it was decidedly more choked up this time. “Shit, Jon, you’re gonna make me cry. You know I was happy to help.”

“I know, I know. Still.”

“Well. You are _very_ welcome.”

They both _grinned_ at each other, reveling in their success.

“Oh!” Jon went back and took Martin’s hand again, walking the two of them back over to Tim’s desk. “Tim, please meet Martin, my boyfriend.”

Tim held out a hand to him. “Ah, hello boyfriend of Jonathan Sims. How do you do?”

Martin shook Tim’s hand with a goofy smile. “Doing quite well, apparent wingman of Jonathan Sims. You helped with… with all this?”

“Yeah, I did. This was absolutely all Jon’s idea and he put in all of the work. I just gave a few pointers.”

Martin nodded. “Well… thank you. I… I don’t think I’m ever going to forget today.”

“He asked for a copy of the slideshow,” Jon cheerily informed him.

“It’s well put together and the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me,” Martin said. “And it’s very… _you.”_

“Tim said the same thing.”

“Well we can’t _both_ be wrong then, love.”

Oh god, they were bantering. It was adorable.

“Alright, as much as I love you two being happy and cute with each other—and I mean that genuinely—don’t you have a date you need to go on?”

“We have a bit of time,” Jon said. “Though we really should get going. Martin?”

“Ready when you are.”

Jon nodded and turned back to Tim one last time. “Thank you, again. Really. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you.”

“Aw, you know being your friend is payment enough,” Tim smiled. “Now go! You two crazy kids have fun, you hear?”

“We will. Bye, Tim.”

“See you on Monday! And thanks for helping Jon!”

And then they were gone.

Tim could not _wait_ for Jon to call him tonight and tell him all about what a great time he and Martin had.

**Author's Note:**

> Here is the [cardigan sweater that Jon got](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/693193140948959352/800191350712434738/810MxIy7gYL.png) and [the mug he got for Martin.](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/693193140948959352/800191404608716820/2Q.png) And, of course, [here is the presentation that Jon made to ask Martin out](https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1HytiLUoDCti_kZS-PkmqhFUd8wIuq8ZRF3OLaIbNIzU/edit?usp=sharing). 
> 
> Also full disclosure, I'm headcanoning Jon as panromantic for this fic. Tim is still his wonderful bisexual self <3
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. Please be sure to kudo, bookmark, and leave a comment if you enjoyed this fic!
> 
> You can find me [here on tumblr.](https://zykaben.tumblr.com) Feel free to hit me up there!


End file.
